Chapter 54: No More Obeying

Later that evening, a Powell family butler rushed over and whispered something to Jackson. His expression changed instantly—his brows furrowing as he gave the butler a sharp, decisive look. Then, without missing a beat, he turned back to the crowd with a smooth, practiced smile, as if nothing had happened.

Twelve-year-old Yumice followed behind the butler as he hurried out of the ballroom. She quietly overheard him telling a maid to lock up the back courtyard—someone had jumped the fence. They couldn’t let the news get out and ruin Mr. Paul’s birthday party.

Yunice spun around and bolted toward the back courtyard. A woman lay flat on the cold, stone tiles—her body twisted, blood pooling beneath the back of her head and seeping into the cracks between the bricks. She was still alive—barely. Blood ran from her mouth and ears, and her body twitched weakly.

Yunice dropped to her knees and pulled a Woundis pill from her pocket, slipping it between the woman’s lips. But it was no use. Wyatt’s mother died anyway.

And now Paul had the nerve to ask her, “What’s so special about Wyatt anyway?” Maybe he’d forgotten everything he did as a kid—how he used to drag her along to mess with Wyatt, like it was some kind of game. Yunice had never touched Wyatt herself, but that didn’t make her innocent. She’d been there. And even now, all these years later, the guilt still clung to her. Maybe Wyatt didn’t even remember seeing her back then. But Yunice hadn’t forgotten. The way she looked out for him now, the way she stood up for him, was really just her way of making up for the girl she used to be—the one who stayed quiet and did nothing.

The more she thought about it, the more hollow it all seemed. As if doing the right thing now could erase what she’d let happen then. As if pretending it never happened would somehow make it disappear. She hated the old version of herself—the girl who obeyed every word and followed every order. And she hated Paul even more.

She shoved his arm off her collarbone. She must’ve hit a sore spot, because he winced and let out a sharp breath.

“Easy,” he snapped, clutching his arm. He frowned, then said, “I know I was wrong to hit you. And that ring cut you! I’m not wearing it anymore.” He rolled up his sleeve and showed her the bruise spreading across his arm. “I didn’t exactly walk away clean either. Can we just call it even?”

He was clearly trying to smooth things over. And when Yunice didn’t say anything, he did something rare for him—he actually tried to lighten the mood. “My arm’s killing me. Can you at least put some medicine on it? Yours always worked the best back then.” Yunice couldn’t stand seeing him hurt. Even the smallest bump, and she’d be chasing him around with that old jar of medicine, insisting on taking care of him.

He used to find it annoying. Called her a nag. He said she was like a clingy mom. But now, Yunice met his eyes without flinching, her face unreadable. “What makes you think you can still tell me what to do?” she said, her voice calm but cold. “Just because you’re in pain, I’m supposed to take care of you! Like I owe you something!”

Chapter 54: No More Obeying

Something about the way she said it made Paul instinctively take a step back. When did Yunice get like this? She used to trail after him, agreeing with everything he said. She never talked back—ever.

Owen’s voice followed the firm knock on the door behind her. “Yunice, open up.”

The tense standoff between them broke, but Paul didn’t move. He stood there, waiting—hoping Yunice would give in and say something to ease the tension. He didn’t believe for a second that she was over him. In his mind, the anger, the way she snapped at him—that only proved she still cared. That she still had feelings for him.

“Yunice,” Owen’s voice came again, louder this time, as the knocking grew heavier.

Yunice noticed Paul wasn’t budging. The look on his face made it obvious—he wanted her to beg him to leave before Owen walked in and saw him there. That was what he wanted—to see her flustered, to hear her plead. And once she did, he’d only push it further. Demand more.

But Yunice wasn’t that girl anymore. Without saying a word, she turned, grabbed the doorknob, and opened the door.

Paul froze, then in one swift motion bolted for the window. In his rush, he smacked his shoulder against the frame, stumbling slightly before managing to launch himself outside. But as he landed, still fuming, he spun around and threw a cigarette into her room.

She acted like getting caught by Owen didn’t bother her at all. Let’s see how she talks her way out of this one.

Only after Paul disappeared did Yunice fully open the door. Owen was already suspicious. His eyes immediately went to the open window across the room. “Did I just hear a bang a second ago?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Yunice stayed calm. “A dumb bird flew into the window. I just let it out.” That explained why she took so long to open the door. Owen’s suspicion faded as he turned back around and dug into his pocket.

Yunice’s eyes drifted downward—and her breath caught. Right by his foot was the cigarette Paul had thrown. Owen hadn’t noticed it. Still focused on his pocket, he pulled out a tube of ointment.

“Here. Use this for now. It’s supposed to help with scars.”